


Another Michael/Teyla fic for petitevanou

by koalathebear



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Angst, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-02
Updated: 2012-01-02
Packaged: 2017-10-28 17:17:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/310205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/koalathebear/pseuds/koalathebear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written during 15minuteficlet challenge</p>
            </blockquote>





	Another Michael/Teyla fic for petitevanou

"We appear to be doomed to meet again and again, Teyla Emmagan," the voice said harshly. Teyla stopped abruptly and turned slowly, raising her P90 in the direction of the speaker.

"You'd shoot a friend?" the voice said mockingly.

"We're not friends, we're enemies, remember?" Teyla said slowly.

"True, friends don't trick each other time and time again...."

"That wasn't my decision to administer the retrovirus to you again, Michael," Teyla told him

"But you did nothing, just as you did nothing when the Atlanteans made the decision to drop a bomb on the planet - wiping out their experiment when it went wrong". His voice was very cold. "I know you meant well. That weak-minded doctor of yours had a confused mind full of misguided good intentions. When will you learn that this is what we are and it is not your place to change us".

"So why is it that you are alone on this planet, Michael?" Teyla asked him quietly. "I know there is no Hive ship here. Your kind have turned from you".

"Because of what your kind did to me," he said bitterly. "I can never again be that which I once was". He stepped out from the shadows and Teyla lowered her weapon slowly.

"What do you want, Michael?" she asked him gently. Her dark eyes were filled with regret and apology and the Wraith stared at her fiercely. "Do you hunger?" she asked him. "Are you intending to feed upon me?"

"That would not solve the long-term problem," he told her abruptly. "I am but one Wraith. The hunger to feed is overwhelming - finding a steady food source is .... difficult".

"Do you want my help, Michael?" she asked him softly. "I have **misled** you before ... and that was wrong - but you know that there is a path that you could choose".

Michael's face twisted with indecision.

"Become human again - come back with me to Atlantis ..." She touched the back of his hand lightly and Michael flinched.

"Be careful Teyla, I am not a lapdog. I could drain your life from you in seconds".

"And you have not. Do not threaten me, Michael". She stepped closer to him, so close that if he chose to he could have reached up and pressed his hand against her flesh and fed upon her. A hissing sound escaped his lips and Teyla smiled slowly. "Will you trust me?" She asked him.

There was a long silence and Michael lowered his head.

"I already do".

***

"Michael?"

The voice came through thick darkness, but it was a familiar voice. Michael struggled to form a response.

"It is all right, lie still," the voice told him reassuringly. "Dr Beckett says that your vital signs are stable. The retrovirus took effect with great speed this time".

He opened his eyes slowly. He recognised the woman sitting beside his bed immediately. She looked pale and very exhausted, but she was smiling at him.

"You're Teyla".

"Yes".

Before he could speak, Teyla interrupted him and spoke urgently in a low-pitched voice. "You are human now - although you were a Wraith. The first two times we administered the retrovirus to you, it was without your consent and we withheld the true circumstances from you. Two days ago, I encountered you offworld and you requested that I bring you back with me to Atlantis. You asked to become human again. It was your choice".

Michael smiled despite himself at her determination to tell him everything. "It's all right, I remember," he told her.

Teyla looked startled. "But ...."

"Third time's a charm," he said musingly, lying back in the hospital bed. He was about to raise his hand to his face when he suddenly realised that Teyla was holding his hand. He stared at her in astonishment. When Teyla saw where he was looking, she immediately released his hand.

"I am sorry," she said apologetically. "You had nightmares during the conversion process. For some reason, this appeared to calm you ...."

Michael stared at his hand and then back at her face wonderingly. "I have never held the hand of another before," he told her.

"That's because those life-force suckers that you find in the hands of the Wraith aren't exactly conductive to handholding," Sheppard's voice said ironically from the doorway. "No need to stand," he said when Teyla and Michael both looked as though they were about to rise. Michael sat up on the bed anyway. Ronon stood to Sheppard's left, looming like a threatening shadow, his disapproval and wariness emanating from him like a dark cloud.

"Ronon, behave," Sheppard said absently. "I see the black eye stayed through the process," he said and Michael glanced at himself in the mirror.

"Oh," he said as he studied the huge black bruise surrounding one eye.

"That was Ronon," Sheppard explained helpfully. "Despite Teya's forewarning, the moment you walked through the Gate, he decked you".

"How's your jaw, Ronon?" Michael asked coolly.

"You didn't break it," Ronon countered. "I'll give you another shot if you want," he taunted.

"Easy, easy," Sheppard said rolling his eyes while Teyla put her hand on Michael's arm to restrain him. The touch was like an **electric** shock and both of them stared at one another warily with realisation dawning in their eyes.

"Thank you for allowing me to return, Colonel Sheppard," Michael said quietly.

"Don't thank me, thank Teyla. She argued your case very persuasively. Said we should give you another chance. That we owed you one - she's the one who's been standing guard by your bed this whole time".

"I won't let you down," Michael said slowly.

"That goes without saying," Sheppard said coolly. "I expect to be able to trust all members of my team. _And_ I expect all members of my team to get along," he said grimly and he turned and glared at Ronon who glared back. "Ronon. Like we agreed".

The expression on Ronon's face indicated that he was being tortured. His jaw grim and resentful, he stepped forward and very reluctantly stuck his hand out.

Michael stared blankly at him for a moment and then warily shook hands with the tall Satedan.

"Thank you," he said quietly.

"You betray us again and I'll end you," Ronon said grimly.

"Fine," Michael said calmly before either Teyla or Sheppard could say anything.

"You have physiotherapy with Ronon in the gym this afternoon," Sheppard said. "He has promised to try not to kill you".

The first glimmer of a smile curved Ronon's mouth.

***

"Stop it, both of you!" Teyla said sternly from the doorway. Elizabeth stood at her side.

Both men were bleeding and battered, staggering where they stood, neither prepared to give an inch.

"Gentlemen, the idea is to kill the enemy not each other," Elizabeth said with cool disapproval in her voice.

"We were just sparring," Ronon said, wiping his mouth, untroubled by the smear of blood that streaked across his hand.

"Yes, exactly," Michael concurred. "Very amicable and instructive," he said, testing his shoulder that had been dislocated during the fight. Ronon reached down helpfully and snapped it back into place as Michael gave a brief shout of pain.

"Thanks," he muttered gratefully.

"Anytime," Ronon countered. "Good fight," he said briefly, walking towards Elizabeth who was rolling her eyes at him in exasperation.

"Ronon, a word," she told him.

"Only if you look after my injuries," he told her, a slightly teasing note in his deep voice.

"That can be arranged," she replied and he grinned and the two of them disappeared.

"No way," Michael said, staring after them in shock. "Dr Weir and Ronon?"

"We all pretend that we do not notice - I suggest that you do the same," Teyla told Michael as she stepped into the room.

"Fine by me," he said swaying on the spot. "Are you here to give me training as well?" he asked, staring at her out of his one good eye, not appearing to notice that his blood was dripping into the floor.

"Perhaps you should sit down before you fall," Teyla said coming up to take his arm and help him over to the window to sit down. Her grip was strong and reassuring and he allowed himself to lean on her slightly as he eased his way down. She stood before him and wiped the blood from his face carefully.

"I do not believe that anything is broken, although I suggest that you allow this bruising to heal before you spar with Ronon again," she told him, examining him closely. She stopped abruptly when Michael's hand reached out and seized her wrist in a tight grip. He pulled her towards him and stared into her eyes fiercely.

 _Do you do this out of guilt?_

Teyla flinched at his question. Then she stood very composedly before him.

 _No_

"Then why are you doing this?" he demanded aloud, his voice urgent but his grip loosening slightly. "Is this still part of your experiment? More mind games?" he demanded.

Teyla's gaze did not leave his. "It appears that you can still see into my thoughts. I am surprised that you are asking these questions," she told him softly. "I told you before that I wanted to be friends - I was not lying to you when I said that".

 _Why?_ His face was wary and sceptical. "I am still a Wraith".

She pulled removed her wrist from his hand, drew him slowly to his feet and rested her brow against his. Michael stood absolutely still, too stunned to move.

"No. You are Michael Kenmore," she told him in a formal voice, her voice quiet, her hands resting lightly on his bare skin.

Michael's hands came up to cup Teyla's face, his fingers light and cool on her warm skin.

Teyla continued. "I, Teyla Emmagan welcome you. To Atlantis".

As evening fell over Atlantis, the sunlight coming through the window of the gym diminished. Although the room grew dark and chill, neither of them moved as they remained standing very close to one another, brow against brow, palms resting against bare skin.

"You. I came back because of you," Michael said with harsh reluctance, anger colouring his voice..

"I know".

  
**end**   



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